


Can't help falling in Love with You

by DeathRainbows



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga), Devilman OVA
Genre: Akira and Ryo have a very dysfunctional relationship and I'm here for it, Angst, Character personalities are OVA based with a hint of manga, Lots of Angst, M/M, Oneshot, Retelling of Devilman Events, Romance, Ryo smokes a lot of drugs, akira bottoms 2020, brief undetailed smut, i tagged Miki but she's barely in this, non-explicit sex that's dubcon once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathRainbows/pseuds/DeathRainbows
Summary: Akira and Ryo fall in love. It's a shame everything always falls apart.
Relationships: Asuka Ryo | Satan/Fudo Akira
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Can't help falling in Love with You

**Author's Note:**

> Devilman fandom is dead but I'm not

Like the other stranger things in Akira's life, the attraction had started during the Sabbath. The Sabbath was the beginning of the end, the original night of blood, the home of that first gruesome transformation- it all had begun there. Coincidentally, or maybe not, Ryo was the cause of every one of those incidents. 

* * *

His long time friend passes him a bottle filled with stinging alcohol mixed with who-knows-what, straight from his own lips, and Akira, for confusing and conflicting reasons, takes it and throws back his head despite his better judgement. Whatever is in the bottle has an instantaneous effect, and he quickly finds himself drugged up and near incoherent. The slick bodies, the sweat in the air, the pumping strobe lights, the pulsing music, it all became too much for a moment, and he has to bury his head in his hands to try and figure out how to think again. Once he comes too a minute later, he’s greeted with the same sight, but Ryo’s smug, grinning face blocks out the majority of the confusing background behind him.

“All right there, Akira?” He has to nearly yell.

Akira shakes his head to dispel the dizziness, blinking out the dots behind his eyelids. “Yes, I’m fine. Strong stuff.”

Ryo glances at the bottle still held loosely in his hand. He raised a brow, “Really? You think so?”

He grabs the bottle from Akira’s sweat-slicked palm and chugs the remnants of the strange solution inside, perhaps ignoring or not even noticing Akira’s jaw dropping in front of him. They’re rather close, Ryo half straddled over him, and Akira can’t help but notice how grown his childhood friend seems. It’s only been a few years, but Ryo’s face has become more defined, his cheeks and jaw losing the last of the middle school baby fat and instead becoming squarer and more pronounced. His eyes have become sharper, though not the least bit less attractive then they had been back then, despite the present cloudy haze from whatever was in his cigarettes and the liquor. Akira finds himself wanting to simply look at Ryo for a little while longer, but all good things must come to an end, and soon enough Ryo finishes the bottle and collapses onto the seat next to Akira. After a few moments, Akira realizes he’s been staring absently at the space in front of him, unsure what to do and unable to garner the motivation to start moving again.

For the upteenth time that night, Ryo says, “You know what we have to do. Are you ready?”

 _Right_. The demonic possession. Akira has his doubts, but he’s already much, _much_ too far in to back out now. If he leaves, then he’s sure Ryo will simply try to merge with a demon himself. He wasn’t about to let him take on the burden alone, not without at least trying. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ryo nods. Akira turns to look at him, if only to ascertain that this was really, truly happening. Ryo slid his gaze from the naked dancing bodies to Akira himself, and they stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, perhaps waiting for the other to say something, or maybe simply taking a last look before they both possibly died. Whatever the case, the eye contact was broken when a particularly boisterous party-goer threw herself at Akira, and the rest is history.

* * *

_Demons loving each other._ It seems like such a strange, almost-impossible concept. And yet, Sirene and Kaim had proved it. Demons _were_ able to care for one another. It wasn’t world-shattering, but it was certainly eye opening.

Akira is quiet on the drive back to Ryo’s apartment. There was no way he could show up at the Makimura’s looking like such a mess, covered in blood and bandages and grime, so Ryo offered to let him spend the day at his place to recover. Devilman, or Amon’s, regeneration capabilities were incredible, and Akira knows he’s going to be fine by this evening. He mostly has to wait for his arm to reattach and the gouge in his side to stitch back together. Ryo had the radio tuned to something slow and jazzy, and the ride was passed in relatively comfortable silence.

Akira sleeps away most of the day in Ryo’s bed while he recovers. When he wakes he finds that the stars have already begun to hang themselves in the sky, but at least his arm is back in working order. Ryo is sitting on the couch, computer on his lap and notebook beside him as he searches for the next possible demon attack. It has become routine for them to spend time together like this.

Ryo finally takes notice of his approach and gives him a tired smile. The bandages across his chest have been freshly changed and he looks as though he too has slept, though it was possibly only a nap judging by the still-dark rings around his eyes. “Hey,” he greets, eyes sweeping Akira before settling on his face.

Akira nods in acknowledgement, combing a messy portion of hair to the side with his fingers, and takes a seat beside him. “Hey yourself.”

Ryo is quiet for a moment as he types something into his computer, before flipping the screen to Akira. It’s a list of nearby restaurants. “Go ahead and choose- my treat,” he smiles fondly.

Akira stares at him disbelievingly. Each of the restaurants listed has at least a four dollar expense sign next to them. His eyes flicker from the screen to Ryo’s small smile, and he swallows thickly, “Are you sure?”

Ryo chuckles, a deep and unfamiliar sound. “Absolutely. We both need a break, wouldn’t you agree?” He reaches over to the coffee table for a cigarette, lights it, and stares patiently at Akira.

“But Ryo, all of these are so expensive!” He tries to half-heartedly protest.

Ryo grins, completely relaxed as he taps into the ashtray next to him. He takes another drag, “So? My father left me the money so I might as well use it.”

Akira sighs, but resigns to defeat. Ryo was right, they both _did_ deserve a break, and if he was willing to pay for it, who was Akira to complain? He checks the list of restaurants once again.

“...I’m sort of in the mood for a steak tonight.”

Ryo gives a full-bellied laugh, “Already digging into my pockets, huh?” At Akira’s embarrassed flush he just laughs even harder. He finally calms down, wiping a tear away and taking another drag, and blows the smoke into a small cloud towards Akira’s face. Akira doesn’t complain, far too used to Ryo’s habits to even mention it, and simply waves the smoke away with a hand and a scrunched nose. “I’m just kidding,” Ryo tell him, “We can get steak, if you want. Just tell me where you want to go.”

The restaurant they end up going to is actually quite fancy, and Akira feels underdressed in his blue v-neck long sleeve and tight black slacks. Ryo, of course, fit the bill of an attractive rich man to a T, having traded his usual disaster of an outfit for something cleaner, a purple collared button up with a white jacket and dark pants. He, of course, still smokes, but in an establishment like this is able to get away with it using nothing but his swagger and confidence. They sit down at the table, and dinner is going fairly well until Akira mentions Silene.

Ryo gains a sour look on his face and he extinguishes the last of his cigarette probably more harshly than strictly necessary. He eyes the crowd around them suspiciously, and whispers, “We shouldn’t talk about that here. We’ll talk on the car ride home.”  
  
Akira agrees, and the rest of the night is spent making idle conversation about nothing at all. Ryo is staring at him the whole time they eat, but Akira is too busy wolfing down steak to care much about anything besides the delicious taste of meat. He meets Ryo’s eyes once or twice, but he would always look away when Akira caught him watching. They finish up with dessert, Ryo pays, and soon enough they’re once again on their way back to Ryo’s apartment.

Akira licks his canines absently, larger and sharper than most likely anybody else’s in the world. Ryo remains quiet, focusing on the road. Finally, Akira says, “So, about Silene…”

Once again, Ryo’s face screws up, and if Akira wasn’t mistaken his hands clench more tightly around the steering wheel, though it’s hard to tell from the glare of the lamp posts lining the road combined with the darkness of the night. Nonetheless, he continues unperturbed, “She was a strange one.”

Ryo seems to be forcing himself to relax. “Indeed. Quite the match for Devilman.”

Akira nods, “Yeah. She beat me, you know. Even though she died, she still beat me, even if it was because of that other demon.”

Ryo sucks in a breath through his teeth, then exhales it quietly. “Regardless, she’s dead and you’re alive. Why are we talking about her? You’re not losing your drive, are you?”

Akira shakes his head, admittedly a little upset Ryo would even consider that a possibility. “No fucking way, Ryo. It just was strange, because in her last moments, it was almost like… something in me didn’t want to see her die. Don’t get me wrong, _I’m_ happy she’s gone, but my demon side- it seemed to feel something else. Not regret, but maybe- Oh, I don’t even know. I just think it’s odd that demons seem to be able to feel the same things humans do, that’s all.”

Ryo eyes him for a moment, a disapproving frown on his face, “Well, whatever you do, don’t go sympathizing with the demons. Remember, they’re the enemy, and you’re our only hope against them. I- Humanity can’t afford to lose you.”

Akira nods decisively, “I know. I promise, I won’t ever lose sight of that goal. I became Devilman for a reason, after all.”

Ryo returns his gaze to the road, slowing as they approach his apartment. He pauses before exiting the car, a contemplative look on his face. 

“Good,” he finally replies, parking the car and turning to Akira, a serious glint in his eyes, “Remember that.” He lingers on Akira’s face a moment longer, and silence reigns. Almost reluctantly, he turns away and leaves the car, mumbling something about sleeping arrangements. Akira remains seated for a moment, mulling over yesterday’s events and his ever-growing attraction to Ryo. _I wonder… is it the human side of me, or the demon, that’s falling in love with him?_

* * *

Ryo kisses him longingly, lips cracked and breath smoky, and Akira finds himself desperately reciprocating. It probably isn’t smart, and it definitely isn’t healthy, but Akira is willing to take anything Ryo will offer. Jinmen has left him scarred in a way that scared him, and he was terrified of letting go of this moment and being alone again. He is still unwilling to involve Miki in his demonic affairs, but more than that he doesn’t want her to see him like this. The strong, unafraid Akira she has come to know, crying for his mother after killing her himself. Forced to release her and all the other tortured souls from their eternal prison on the back of Jinmen’s shell, left more than a little damaged because of it. It marks the first time he has killed a human, despite it being a merciful death. There was something in that fact he will never be able to get back. To talk about it with Miki would open a door that could never be shut again.

Ryo, on the other hand, has been beside him since the start of their journey. Ryo has led him down this path, and has supported him all the way in any way he could. Ryo has seen him at his most innocent, at his most violent, and now, at his most broken. Still, Akira knows Ryo isn’t they type of person who can offer the kind of emotional support he probably needs, and in coming here had half hoped he would simply leave him alone and let him crash at his apartment for a few days. But contrary to his expectations, Ryo had entered the small bedroom, sat down beside him, and planted a kiss on his lips. Akira had always known there was _something_ between them, but to acknowledge it felt… strange. If he was being honest, it seemed completely unreal, and not necessarily in a good way.  
  
Regardless, the kiss continues, and the odd tension between them slowly dissipates. Akira finds himself relaxing despite his inner turmoil, and kisses Ryo earnestly, sliding his hands up his shirt and tugging Ryo on top of him. Ryo briefly pulls away, seemingly stunned. He licks his lips nervously, and his eyes are blown. He too, seems surprised at the turn of events.

“I- Akira, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me-”

“Ryo,” Akira tells him calmly, “It’s alright.” He grabs Ryo’s loose white shirt and pulls him down for another kiss. It was nice to be close to someone, even if it was only physical. Akira knows Ryo will probably never admit to any romantic feelings, if he’s harboring any at all, but Akira is alright with that. He loves Ryo with everything he has, so hopefully it will be enough for both of them. Physical intimacy was enough. It had to be, at least for tonight.

  
  


Akira moans rather loudly, and flushes even more deeply at the sound of his own voice, though Ryo seems to like it, if the nearly-imperceptible smile on his own flushed face is any indication. He picks up the pace, to the pleasure of both parties, and they climax together for the first and last time that night. They remain together a moment longer, until Ryo leans down for a kiss, riding out the orgasm with him before finally pulling out. Ryo rolls to the side and throws away the condom, lighting himself a cigarette while he’s at it. Akira runs a hand through his dark hair, mostly out of habit than any desire to fix it, and watches Ryo fondly for a moment before closing his eyes tiredly, somewhat overwhelmed from their activities and the strain of the day that came before them. Both of them are breathing a bit heavily.

Ryo calms within a few drags. He glances over to Akira, cigarette dangling between his lips, and watches with content, hooded eyes as Akira lazily stretches out before relaxing. A small, fond smile comes over his lips.

Akira cracks open an eye, his own weakly-suppressed grin playing on his face. “What?”

Ryo laughs, and Akira doesn’t know the last time he saw him look so genuinely happy.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head before taking another drag, though this time he takes care to exhale the smoke away from Akira. “That was… nice.”

Akira puts his arms behind his head. “Yeah, it was,” he grins cheekily at Ryo, “Maybe we should do it again sometime.”

Ryo smirks back at him, “Maybe we should.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Ryo asks softly, “Has anyone ever told you your eyes are quite beautiful?”

Akira blinks, turning his head to look at him, “No- you’d be the first. And only.”

Ryo chuckles, though there’s an odd tone to it that Akira dismisses, and takes one last drag before putting out his cigarette. 

“Good, I like it that way.”

Akira raises a brow playfully, “What, you don’t want me to get compliments?”

Ryo rolls onto his side, staring at him thoughtfully. “Not from anyone other than me,” he answers seriously. At Akira’s face, he continues, “You’re my one and only, so I should be yours. There isn’t anyone else, is there?”

Ryo had gotten a dangerous flash in his eyes, but Akira had no reason to lie, so he replies, “No, there isn’t. Miki… it’s complicated, but not romantic.”

The answer seems to satisfy him. Ryo reaches over to turn the lamp off, and they sleep peacefully, a nice change from the night terrors that plagued them both. When Akira wakes the next morning, he finds Ryo’s hand has become entangled with his throughout the night. It was almost as though Jinmen had simply been a bad dream. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to hope.

_Perhaps… it’s not just physical after all.  
_

* * *

Akira has searched his apartment relentlessly, called him countless times, and even taken to circling around the city at night in search of his car. Nothing ever turns up, until one day, suddenly, Ryo stumbles back into town, haggard and ill. In their time together, Ryo is scared and paranoid if anything besides Akira, often jumping at the slightest sound or spending countless hours researching. For what, Akira doesn’t know. Ryo has started to look like a ghost, but nothing can pull him away. Akira frets, and wonders, and they couple, but soon enough he’s gone again.

 _I’ve been getting blank periods,_ he had told him, _periods where things happen but I doesn’t remember them at all. I’ve got to find out what’s going on._

It scares him..

_Ryo... what’s happening to you?_

* * *

It all went wrong and the world burned.

_Humanity._

_Demons._

_I hate them both. I have nothing left to fight for. I should just die._

* * *

He cradles Miki’s charred head closely as he trudges through the deserted, empty wasteland that used to be a city. Destroyed buildings reach over his head, though they are now as broken and defiled as he is. No more skyscrapers remain, cut down to Earth and covered in splotches and splatters of blood from corpses that have long since decayed. The ones that remain fill the air with rot.

Akira carries on. He has been searching for a spot worthy enough to bury her (or what remains of her), but has found no luck. The skin is beginning to sag.

He finally stumbles upon a single tree, standing out almost dangerously from the barrenness around him. Where there is a tree, there is a testament to life, and so he chooses this as her burial ground. He melds together two pieces of wood with his useless demonic strength (though truthfully it is his only saving grace), and plants the cross on top of the mound of dirt that now holds her. He offers a quick prayer, to only Miki (he could care less about the rest of them), and leaves. He does not look back. He has no reason to. He has nothing.

* * *

Satan greets him proudly, breasts and genitalia exposed for the world to see and not the least bit ashamed because of it. Akira hates them. Where most would see beauty, he sees only a traitor.

He does not wish to talk to them. He does not wish to acknowledge them. He does not wish to see them. Yet, they still reach for his arm as he passes by.

“Akira…” They say sadly, seemingly frustrated, as though they have any right to say his name at all.

Akira roughly pulls away and continues on. He wants to mourn. He wants to win this world back, but he is alone. He is hopeless.

“Akira,” they try once again, “Why won’t you join me?”

Akira scowls deeply, rounding on them and snarling viciously, “Shut up! You know why, you bastard!”

The demon with the mask of someone he loved sighs sadly. “I truly don’t. Am I not still Ryo Asuka, if only in appearance?” They gesture to their breasts, a hint of desperation entering their voice, “You  
see, I could be anything you want me to be!”

Akira growls lowly. He can feel himself losing control, but he resists it. He won’t. Not in front of Satan, at least. “If you had ever cared for me, you wouldn’t have started this war in the first place,” hatred, or something else makes his voice waver, “You’ve ruined us.”

“Us? Us who? Humanity?” Satan scoffs, “Akira, please. Humanity has ruined themselves. I turned you into a demon because _I_ wanted you, not so you could be a protector-”

“This is bullshit,” Akira interrupts them, unwilling to give them the pleasure of meeting his eyes, “See you in hell.” He begins to walk away, but Satan blocks his way, arms and wings spread wide to bar his path.

“Listen to me, Akira!” They plead, “Where are you going to go? Who do you have left, except me?”

Akira shoves them away. He can feel the demonic transformation pressing at him in spite of himself. “I never had you in the first place. Ryo Asuka wasn’t real, and if he ever was, you’re certainly not him. Now leave me alone before I tear you to shreds and shit on your remains. No- you wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

He tries to leave again, but before he knows what’s happening he’s being pressed into the dirt. He growls, and allows himself to fall into instinct, shifting until he’s in the familiar form of Devilman. He wrestles with Satan, but despite their appearance they are much, much, stronger than they seem. He gets a few punches in, even tries flapping his wings fruitlessly to escape, but he is unable to escape. Satan’s breath is cool on his ear, befitting of such a demon.

“Please, Akira,” they whisper, “One last time before the end.”

Devilman is forcibly confined by Satan, and Akira Fudo is back in his human form. Satan looms over him, but the face of Ryo is what Akira sees. 

Akira has struggled. He has clawed his way from hell and back. He’s fought, day in and day out, but he has nothing anymore. Who is he supposed to protect, if everyone is a monster?

So he allows himself to believe in that fantasy, once more, one last time, that perhaps Ryo might have loved him back.

* * *

Satan sits on the beach, Akira laid next to them. He could have been sleeping, if not for the fact that his lower body has been obliterated.

They are waiting. God will likely incite his wrath soon enough. The Earth, once paradise of the humans, is now barren, and demons, the supposed true successors, are wiped out, courtesy of the Devilman Army. 

Satan glances at Akira, lying peacefully beside them in a way that had only happened once during their time as Ryo Asuka. In every loop, time spent with Akira is a wonderful thing, but their love is never enough to save him. He will always die, and they will always mourn, and the cycle will always repeat itself. Sometimes, Satan wishes they could fall out of love with Akira, but no matter what happens they always find themselves back at the beach. Akira is always beside them, dead. He always dies believing that they never loved him in the first place.  
  
“Oh Akira,” Satan sighs, running a hand down his still face. No matter how many times their story ends this way, they will never be able to make him understand. But still… if only as a mourning prayer, Satan thinks,

_  
Akira, I have always loved you. From now unto forever._

**Author's Note:**

> So uh... yeah. Leave your thoughts in the comments. I know this definitely isn't one of my best pieces, but I wanted to write some Ryokira and Devilman stuff so here this is. Hope you at least enjoyed! Have a nice day :)
> 
> P.S. it's 1:30am so please forgive some grammatical errors I'll fix them soon
> 
> Update: Everything fixed! The best version is now available for your reading pleasure. I sincerely hope you enjoy!


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